


Perfect Places

by reversetheuniverse



Category: Girl Meets World
Genre: F/M, New Girl au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-19
Updated: 2018-05-05
Packaged: 2019-03-21 13:11:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13741626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reversetheuniverse/pseuds/reversetheuniverse
Summary: It's your typical love story: Guy meets girl. Guy cheats on girl. Girl moves into apartment with three other guys. Girl falls in love with roommate.You know,typical.





	1. our love is a ghost

**Author's Note:**

> Uhhhh I've been watching a lot of New Girl lately and this is the product of that. This'll just be an out of order series of ficlets based around that au. Title comes from the Lorde song "Perfect Places". 
> 
> As always, thanks for reading! :)

Riley chews furiously on the heart eraser at the end of her pencil as she carefully reads over her class’ stories, her concentration practically unbreakable. She’s gotta finish these papers before the end of the night, because it’s, well, _Valentine’s Day_ , and she’s got a _date_. Which means that if things go according to plan, then she’ll be busy the entire duration of the night. It’s already bad enough that Zay, Lucas, and Farkle are romping around the living room like a bunch of hooligans, distracting her almost as much as her anxiety is.

“Could you guys just keep it down for a bit?!” she shouts from her desk, immediately hearing a _thud_ afterward. She rolls her eyes, her best guess being that Zay fell off the couch.

Sometimes rooming with three guys can be difficult.

. . . _Most times_ rooming with three guys can be difficult.

But she doesn’t really mind it, usually. She just has a lot on her plate tonight, and she wants everything to be just _perfect_. And the first way to make it perfect?

Finish grading these damn papers.

Damn her and her amazing teaching skills! These third graders are too good at writing!

“Riles?” Farkle pokes his head into her room, startling her.

“Geez,” she grips her chest, her pencil falling to the floor as she breathes shallowly. “Knock next time, yeah?” He doesn’t apologize, just steps through and closes her door gently behind him, revealing himself to her. He’s wearing a sexy, form-fitting suit, one that you save for special occasions like a wedding or something.

“What do you think? Is it too much?” he asks, stretching his arms out. In the dim of her lamp, she studies him up and down (she’s _not_ checking him out; he asked her to look!), taking notice of him as much as she possibly can. When she glances back up at him, she notices his hair gelled back, and she whistles.

“Hair gel? What’s the occasion?” she asks.

“I think,” he breathes, a small smile forming on his face, “That I’m going to ask Catherine to marry me tonight.” Riley’s own smile drops, her eyes going wide.

“You’re proposing to her tonight?” Farkle nods his head.

“Yeah. I’m taking her to Cappelini’s. Our reservation is at eight.” Riley swallows hard, trying her best to muster up a congratulatory expression for him but failing miserably. There’s a small voice in the back of her head nagging her, telling her that that’s the _exact_ place he took her on their first date a while back and that this is all a mistake. She pointedly ignores it, jumping up from her desk chair to hug him.

“I’m so happy for you, Farkle,” she tries, attempting to distract herself from the abysmal pit that’s been hollowed out in her stomach.

“Thanks, Riles. You’re my best friend, you know that?” he tells her. Riley furrows her brows, and she can’t help but feel like it’s the beginning of the end, this night.

“Always, Farkle. Always and forever.”

Farkle clears his throat as he stands back, his steel-gray eyes boring a hole into hers for a few seconds before he offers her a quick, thin-lipped smile, giving her an inch of space.

“Well, I should probably go. I’ve got a few more things I need to do before eight,” he explains. Riley gets it. He trusts her opinion, he really does, but there’s something about telling your ex-girlfriend that you’re about to propose to another woman that makes the air around . . . _awkward._

“You have fun, okay?” she says, giving him a crooked grin.

“Will do,” he responds, disappearing back into the living room, leaving her alone to her thoughts and ungraded papers.

Riley doesn’t know why she’s so stunned; she saw this coming. She knew how much he liked Catherine, how well they hit it off. They were the same kind of person, and Farkle needed that. He needed someone who could understand him wholly, deserved that. He deserved a lot of things that Riley never could quite give him back when they dated.

But why is she even revisiting this? She’s long-since moved on from him! They’ve managed to keep their friendship stable without any hitches, and although it took a while, they found what worked best for them.

So why does she feel like her heart is breaking?

Riley doesn’t have time to analyze her own weird feelings. What she’s going to do is finish these papers, dress up, and then get ready to have dinner with Charlie—Charlie, the amazingly kind pediatric doctor. The amazingly kind pediatric doctor who is actually _into_ her.

 _Farkle is a thing of the past,_ she tries to remind herself as she focuses on the stack of papers in front of her, her brows scrunched together and her heart aching in her chest.

She’ll be just fine.

 

//

 

So Riley _doesn’t_ end up going on that date with Charlie.

Maya came over at her request, only an _hour_ before the date. Riley was freaking out because she had finished grading all her papers, was all ready for the date, but for some reason her body wouldn’t let her step foot out the FREAKING DOOR!!

“Honey, you better feel special. I ditched my date for this,” Maya shows up, her arms crossed as she gives Riley an irritated look.

“Peaches, just help convince me to go through that door. I just need a push, okay? Some moral support that will let me remember that this is just a date and not the end of the world.” Maya eyes her best friend, raising her brows.

“It didn’t occur to you that this is _not_ normal Riley behavior?” she asks. Riley shakes her head.

“No no _no_ ,” she insists, “It’s all good. I’m just nervous, is all.” Maya remains unconvinced.

“Uh huh. We’re going to try this again, Riley. What’s up? Why did you have me come all the way over here?” Riley glances at Maya a moment before sighing and collapsing on the couch.

“He’s getting engaged,” Riley explains. “And I’m just . . . I don’t know why, but it’s making me feel weird.”

“Who’s getting engaged?” Maya asks, sitting down next to Riley.

“ _Farkle_ ,” Riley answers. “He told me he was proposing to Catherine tonight and it’s put me in this weird rut for some reason.”

“Oh, _Honey,_ ” Maya coos, patting her friend’s hair, “You’re still in love with him.” Riley almost jumps out of her seat, her eyes wide.

 _“What?!”_ she exclaims. “No I’m not!”

_“Riley.”_

_“Maya.”_ Maya shoots her a pointed look.

“Honey, I know you don’t want to admit it, but it’s the truth. Why else would you be ditching your date with Charlie the pediatrician? You _love_ kids, and more than that, you _love_ men who love kids. He’s perfect and sweet, and yet you can’t find it in you to leave. Isn’t that a _little_ telling?”

“But . . .” Riley trails, thinking about what Maya’s suggesting.

It’s preposterous. She isn’t still in love with Farkle! Riley and Farkle broke up a long while ago, decided it was for the best if they did. They just didn't work out, and it was better that they were just friends and roommates like they were before. It was one of the most difficult things that they had to experience, but they got over it, and since then, Riley’s been on a bunch of other dates and has had numerous significant others.

Maya is _wrong_.

“Listen, Honey, I do need to get back to my date. So why don’t you do this—it’s Valentine’s Day, and no stable relationship comes from Valentine’s Day. Tell Charlie that you’re going to cancel, just tonight, because you’re feeling unwell. And _if_ you truly aren’t still in love with Farkle, then you’ll be able to go on this date with Charlie the next time, okay? Does that sound good?” Riley considers it a moment before nodding her head, exhausting a breath.

“Alright, I’ll do that. But _not_ because I’m still in love with Farkle, because I’m _not_. I’m just really nervous is all.” Maya gives Riley a sympathetic smile before waving goodbye and exiting through the front door, leaving Riley by herself in the loft once again.

Maya is just plain _wrong_.

 

//

 

Riley doesn’t know when exactly she ended up celebrating Valentine’s Day by drinking rosé on the roof of their apartment, but she is. She takes sips of the rosé from the bottle as she stares out at the city below, shaking her head.

She could be on a date with a cute doctor, but instead she’s tipsy and alone on the roof of her own apartment. How _pathetic_.

And Maya’s not even remotely right about why she’s not going out with Charlie tonight. Charlie intimidates her. He’s like, a billion steps up from what a teacher is. How is she supposed to compete with that?

Not that romance is a competition, but still. He’s impressive.

As Riley goes to steal another swig of wine straight from the bottle, the creaking of the rusty roof door alerts her to someone’s presence. She glances out of the corner of her eye, expecting the weird landlord or maybe even Zay complaining about his date going wrong, but instead it’s Farkle Minkus.

Farkle Minkus, the supposedly recently-proposed ex-boyfriend/current roommate of hers.

“Farkle?” she calls out to him as he makes his way over to her, taking a seat next to her. She’s confused—he looks downtrodden and miserable, which is the opposite of how he’s supposed to be right now. He should be celebrating, should be with Catherine. So why is he here?

He extends a hand out, silently asking for the bottle of wine. She relinquishes it to him, watching him cringe as he steals a sip of the pink wine. He never did like rosé, but that doesn’t seem to be stopping him right now.

“She said no,” he tells her softly after swallowing. Riley frowns, her heart hurting for him.

“I’m so sorry, Farkle.”

“She just wasn’t on the same page, or so she told me. To be honest, I think it’s because she’s still in love with her ex Sean. I guess not knowing whether or not that’s the truth is better,” he shrugs.

“Still, it’s not fair to you. You really liked her a lot,” Riley says. “You were prepared to marry her you loved her so much.”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

Cars beep and the city glows vividly below, silence crossing between the two of them. Riley spends the moment thinking while Farkle still has the wine in his possession, a million things crossing her mind. Then she says something, something _stupid_ , and all she can think is that it must be the alcohol talking.

“What happened between us, Farkle?” Farkle’s gaze meets hers quickly, his brows shooting up into his forehead. He opens his mouth and closes it, as if considering the answer before actually giving it. He then heaves a sigh, setting the bottle on the ground.

“You know, I’m not actually sure. I think . . . I think we decided we were just too different in the end, and that it wouldn’t work out. That we were best as friends than lovers.” Riley hums, letting his words roll over in her head.

“We’re not that different now, are we?” she asks. Farkle looks over at her, offering her a small smile.

“Yeah, we’re not. We’re really good friends. In fact, you’re my best friend.”

“Likewise, Farkle. Likewise.”

And as she takes the last drink from the bottle, she contemplates what Maya said earlier, thinking that maybe, just _maybe_ , she wasn’t so wrong after all.


	2. i'm waiting for it, that green light, i want it

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [EDIT: I went back through and changed it up a bit. So if you've already read this, please give it another read! Thanks :) ]
> 
> So I'm definitely using Lorde's album "Melodrama" as inspiration for all of this. Is it because I've been listening to it endlessly on repeat this week? Is it because I'm basing it off of New Girl and season six ended with "Green Light" which is off that album? Is it because that album is just too damn good?
> 
> Who's to say.
> 
> But I can say this: this is a hella good chapter. I'm positive of that fact.
> 
> Enjoy! :)

It’s months after Farkle was almost engaged and he’s back in a relationship once again, and Riley is _miserable._

It isn’t her fault, really, she was going to admit her feelings to him. Maya and Lucas’ spontaneous wedding was the perfect place, and she was determined. But then she saw him dancing with one of Maya’s friends from the studio and . . .

And now he’s together with that girl he met at the wedding, happy as can be with her, and Riley can’t help but think that this is how it’s meant to be. They’re not meant to be together; they tried that. She’s just hung up on the idea of it, the high the relationship gave her.

But she’s still hung up on him nonetheless, Farkle just professed his love to this girl, they’re already talking about her moving in, and Riley’s fed up. She can’t handle the heartbreak; it’s too much.

So she does what she does best when these situations arise: takes the first flight back to New York.

Yeah, she’s kind of running away from her problems, but no one can tell her not to, and plus—this will be a good trip for her. She hasn’t visited her parents in a long while, and it’ll be nice to see them. They’re a comfort to her, that’s for sure.

Topanga and Cory (the original power couple, or, as she likes to refer to them, Mom and Dad) could probably offer some insight into the mess and disaster that is her love life, honestly.

She needs it.

“Riley!” Topanga exclaims as soon as the front door swings open. Riley drops her luggage to give her mom a hug.

“Good to see you, too, Mom,” she chirps back, just as happy to see her. “Where’s Dad?” Topanga offers to take one of Riley’s bags, leading her into the living room.

“Probably off being a curmudgeon or something,” her mother shrugs. “He has really been into model airplanes lately.”

“Why does he act like he’s retired?” Riley snorts, shaking her head. “The man is only fifty, not seventy.”

“To be fair, a lot of his spunk and zest for teaching stemmed from teaching you and your brother. And now both of you have moved out, and your father feels like he’s gotta find other hobbies. At least he’s doing something and not moping around the house anymore like he was before.” Topanga pauses a moment, adjusting the prescription glasses on the edge of her nose before turning towards the hallway. “CORY MATTHEWS! YOUR DAUGHTER IS HERE!”

 _“Alright, alright! I’ll be out in a second!”_ Riley’s dad shouts from the other room.

“Glad to see that he’s excited I’m back,” Riley mutters sarcastically. The sound of a door shutting emerges from the hallway, and Cory appears, his arms crossed.

“What do you want?” he asks. Riley huffs.

“What, I can’t just visit you for the heck of it?!” Cory raises his brow.

“I love you, Riley, I really do, but New York is a long way from Los Angeles. You either need something or something’s going on in your life and you’re running away from your problems.”

“I-I . . . But that’s not-! You don’t . . . _No!_ ” Riley sputters, but Cory Matthews knows his own flesh and blood too well.

“Uh huh. So what is it this time? You in love with another roommate or something?” Boy, her dad is too good at reading her. She really is her father’s daughter.

“I mean . . . not _exactly_ . . .” she trails off. Cory sighs, gesturing for her to sit in the bay window. Topanga waves goodbye silently, disappearing from the living room so that Cory and Riley could have one of their famous bay window talks.

Growing up, whenever she had problems, her dad would sit with her in the bay window and help her talk them out. As she grew older, he passed that torch onto Maya, but the offer has always been there. Her parents have long since changed the upholstery of the cushions to a solid, more elegant fabric, but it looks as warm and inviting to her as it always has.

“Alright, who is it? Are you going to tell me you’re in love with all of them?” he asks, wasting no time. Riley shoots him a look of disdain.

 _“No,”_ she says. “It’s not that. It’s . . . I’m still in love with Farkle.”

“The weirdo? The one with the multi-colored turtlenecks that you dated for a long while? _That_ Farkle?”

“He doesn’t wear those sweaters _anymore_ . . . God, it’s _Farkle_. It’s always been him, Dad!” she throws her arms up in the air, exasperated.

“And the problem is . . . ?”

“That he’s never going to see me in that way anymore. He’s already dating someone else now and they’re really serious and I lost my chance,” Riley tells him dejectedly, her eyes meeting the hardwood floors. “But it hurts to be there with him, which is why I came here. I don’t know how much longer I can stand to be around him when I feel this way.”

When she looks back up, she no longer sees an irritated, curmudgeon-version of her father. Instead, he’s giving her a sympathetic smile, offering out his arms.

“C’mere,” he says, and she quickly flies into his embrace, wrapping her arms tightly around him. “If he doesn’t realize what a catch you are, then he isn’t worth it. Anyone who doesn’t see the brilliance that is Riley Matthews is a lost cause, got it?”

“Got it, Dad.” He breaks the hug, sitting back with his hands planted firmly on her shoulders, looking at her sternly.

“Now, I’ll let you stay here a bit, but you promise me that you’ll use that time to just relax and be yourself, okay? Then you’ll return home, because nothing good comes out of running away from your problems. And make sure Maya knows where you are, because I’m positive she’s freaking out about the fact that her best friend fled without a word.” Riley laughs, nodding her head.

“Okay, I guess that makes sense.”

What would she even do without her parents in her life? She loathes to think about it.

 

//

 

Riley spends one whole week in New York until Maya’s finally able to coax (and beg) her to come back to Los Angeles. She really would love to stay longer, but her dad is right—she can’t just run away from her problems. She has to face them head on, and head on is admitting to Farkle that she has feelings for him still.

Which is cool. She can do that, no biggie. She just risks the chance that he doesn’t feel the same way _at all_ and that their friendship crumbles and she’ll never be able to come back from that.

But you know, it’s _cool_.

“It’s for the best,” Maya assures Riley after picking her up from the airport. “It’ll give you both a little closure. And I wouldn’t worry about you losing Farkle. He cares too much about you to let you leave his life. In fact, I’d wager that he’d rather play sports than let you go, he cares that much about you.” Riley smiles warmly at Maya.

“Thanks, Peaches.”

“Of course, Honey. But next time, tell me when you’re going to visit freaking New York! I’m your best friend!”

Riley only laughs at that.

 

//

 

She’s settling back in her room after a week of being gone when she hears Zay and Farkle in the living room. Riley thinks to herself that _this is it_ , this is the moment she has to go for. She feels her phone buzz in her pocket and sees that it’s Farkle calling her for the billionth time, and she shuts it off, knowing that she can talk to him face to face now.

Riley creeps out of her room silently, Zay and Farkle’s idle chatter meeting her ears quickly. She’s about to alert them to her presence, but then she picks up on their conversation, deciding to pull a total Nancy Drew and listen in instead.

“She’s not answering my calls still,” Farkle sighs, tossing his phone onto the coffee table.

“Maybe she’s going through something right now,” Zay offers. “I mean, she just up and left at a moment’s notice, and she’s been pretty down in the dumps lately.”

“She has?” Farkle asks. Zay nods.

“Dude, I . . . Look, how about instead of answering any questions about her, I ask some about you. Why’d you and Meredith break up?” Riley realizes that must be why Farkle’s been calling her so frequently. Her heart also realizes in a beat that he’s _free_ , and that maybe her feelings aren’t a lost cause after all.

“I don’t know. She told me it was because I wasn’t giving it my all,” Farkle shrugs.

“Why do you think that might be?” Farkle shoots him a skeptical look, narrowing his eyes.

“Are you trying to be my therapist?”

“Would you just try to cooperate? Is it that hard? I’m trying to help you out, man,” Zay frowns. Farkle waves him on.

“Alright, alright. Proceed.”

“So why do you think Meredith thought you weren’t giving it your all?” Farkle considers that for a second.

“I think . . . Because I _wasn’t_ ,” he admits. “I really wanted to make us work, I really did, but we just weren’t compatible.”

“And that’s because . . . ?” Zay continues to press. Farkle twists his mouth to the side, uncertain.

“I don’t know.” Zay appears unpleased by Farkle’s lack of participation, but he lets it slide, rolling his eyes.

“Fine, I’ll just come out and say it then. You weren’t compatible because you’re still in love with someone _else_.” Farkle stares at Zay, confused.

“What? No I’m not.”

“Dude, you’re telling me you’re _not_ still in love with Riley?” Riley covers her mouth to hide the small gasp that escapes her lips, eyes widening.

_“What?!”_

“Farkle, you’ve loved Riley ever since she stepped foot through that door, box full of craft supplies in hand,” Zay tells him. Farkle shakes his head.

“No, _no_ ,” he insists. “It’s . . . we’re not like that anymore, Zay. You know it wouldn’t work out. Riley and I, we just _don’t make any sense_.”

Just like that, Riley feels her heart drop all the way down to her toes, her throat running dry. She scampers back into her room as silently as possible, her back sliding against the door as soon as she’s closed it. His words echo through her mind, haunting her.

_“You know it wouldn’t work out. Riley and I, we just don’t make any sense.”_

It’s just as she thought: Farkle didn’t like her like that anymore, and she was just kidding herself. All that telling him about her feelings will do is lead her to more heartbreak, and Riley doesn’t think she can take it anymore.

Maybe he’s right. Maybe they wouldn’t work out. It’s best that she cuts her losses early to prevent herself from more pain in the end. She takes her phone out and texts Maya, the idea she had playing over in her mind for a while becoming set in stone.

 

**Riley: maya i’m moving out.**

//

“Are you sure about this, Honey?” Maya asks as she watches Riley frantically box up the rest of her stuff.

“It’s the only way,” Riley tells her. “Now hurry up. We don’t have all day before he gets back.”

“Don’t you maybe wanna, I dunno, _talk_ to him first? Maybe tell him that you’re doing this?” she continues. Riley stares at her pointedly.

“Maya, I love you, but you’re not being the support I need you to be right now.”

“Alright,” Maya gives in, grabbing a box. “You want me to put this into the truck downstairs?”

“That would be _lovely_ ,” Riley says as she closes up a box with packaging tape. Maya disappears through the door, but she’s quickly replaced by Zay leaning against her doorframe.

“So this is it, huh? You’re just gonna leave us?” Riley shrugs, giving him a half-hearted smile.

“I need to do a little growing up on my own, Zay. It’s for the best.” He crosses his arms, nodding his head.

“Right, right, and this has nothing to do with you still being in love with Farkle?” Riley frowns.

“ _No_ , that’s _not_ it, okay, Zay? This is for me and me only,” she says defensively. “I need this.”

“Okay, but what if I need you?” he tells her, pouting.

“Then I’m a phone call away, yeah?” she answers. Zay breathes, exhausted.

“Yeah, okay I guess. But you gotta keep to your word. Alright, Matthews?” Riley stands up to meet him, grinning.

“Of _course_ , Zay! I’m always here for you, no matter what. Distance won’t change that one bit.” Zay softens up, smiling right back at her.

“Good. Now let’s get to packing up that truck. It’s gonna be a bitch to fit everything in there.”

“I ordered one big enough!” Riley exclaims. Zay looks at her incredulously.

“Sure, Miss ‘Arts-and-Crafts’. And I’m a ten-foot tall dragon.” She sticks her tongue out at him, picking a couple of boxes off of the ground.

“Get a move on already, Mr. Dragon.”

 

//

 

As soon as the moving truck is packed up, Maya, Zay, and Riley all take a quick break to get a bite to eat together for one last time for a long while. Zay sheds a few tears, Maya orders a round of shots, and Riley couldn’t be more grateful for the friends she’s been given in life. She really wouldn’t move out if she thought she had another option, but she doesn’t. It’s not running away—it’s making a decision on her own, and Riley needs that.

She needs to grow up. She’s become too dependent on people.

When they return back to the apartment complex, Riley takes one last longing glance at it, giving it her silent goodbye as she closes this chapter in her life. Zay offers to drive her to her destination and Riley accepts, knowing fully that she’ll need help when she gets there. Maya also tags along because she’s Maya and her best friend, and Riley couldn’t say no to her.

Right before they all clamber inside the truck, Maya pauses a moment, cursing.

_“Shit.”_

“What is it, Maya?” Riley asks.

“I forgot your hat box upstairs,” she says, grimacing. Riley gasps.

“Maya! I told you that was the _one_ thing I needed you to make sure got in the truck!”

“Sorry!” Maya apologizes. “Just go get it and we’ll get the car started. It should still be in your old room.” Riley nods, speeding off towards the apartment.

Once inside, she presses the elevator button about a billion times, trying her best to just get in and out as quick as possible. It finally dings and opens for her to step inside and she hits the fourth-floor button, tapping her foot impatiently as she urges the elevator to just _speed up already, damn!_ It seems to listen to her, and soon she’s being let onto her floor, the apartment door in sight. She runs up to it, swinging the door open swiftly and turning right immediately, her hand on her doorknob in a split second. And when it pops open . . .

Standing in the middle of her empty room, body haloed by the bright lights of the city, his back facing her and in an orange turtleneck is _Farkle Minkus_. He’s got about a billion bouquets of daisies around him (her _favorites_ ) and Riley just doesn’t understand.

“Farkle?” she calls out to him, bewildered. And then he turns around and gets on one knee, and Riley goes absolutely _speechless_ , her mouth gaping as he holds out a gorgeous sapphire-encrusted ring.

“Riley Matthews, I know this is sudden,” he starts, a big, beaming grin on his face, “But I’m absolutely, irrevocably, head-over-heels in love with you still. And I didn’t realize it until just recently, and for that I’m entirely sorry. But your face is the face I want to wake up to every single morning, and I want to be able to kiss the dimples in your cheeks for the rest of my life. I’m even wearing the turtleneck sweater I wore on our first date to that dumb, fancy restaurant, because even after we broke up and I stopped wearing these sweaters I just couldn’t let it go.

“I didn’t know it at the time, but I never really fully wanted to let you go, because you’re the best the that’s ever happened to me. And this ring?” he says, gesturing to the ring he’s been holding out to her this entire time, “I bought it a week after we told one another that we loved each other because I was _positive_ that I was going to marry you. I know I got a little lost along the way, but now I want to see that come to fruition, because I’ve never been more certain about something in my life. So, Riley Matthews, answer me this: Will you marry me?”

Words seem to be failing Riley, and she notices him growing more anxious with each passing second, so Riley does what Riley does best.

She walks up to Farkle, pulls him up by the neck of his sweater, and kisses him. He’s startled by the action at first, but then relaxes, his free hand reaching up to cradle the side of her face. Riley feels her heart exploding in her chest like a bunch of fireworks going off at once, each spark shooting to her toes and fingers and making her buzz with absolute euphoria. Farkle stops kissing her when he notices that she’s been crying this whole time.

“So is that a yes?” he asks, wiping away her tears. Riley laughs.

“That’s a _hell yes_ ,” she tells him, offering him her left hand. He slides the ring onto her finger and it fits like a glove, and Riley’s life couldn’t be any more perfect than in that moment. Riley stops when her phone begins to vibrate in her pocket, and she pulls it out, answering it.

“Hello?”

 _“Did you say yes?!”_ Maya and Zay shout from the other side of the receiver. Riley rolls her eyes, ending the call and pushing her phone back into her pocket. She wraps her arms around Farkle’s neck, smiling from ear-to-ear at him.

“So, where were we?” she asks.

“I think we were kissing again after you said yes to marrying me,” he answers, and Riley nods her head, her mouth twisting to the side thoughtfully.

“Yes, I do believe we were. Care to continue?” Farkle pulls her closer by the waist.

“In the words of a great woman I’ve come to enjoy quite thoroughly, that would be a “ _hell yes_ ”,” Farkle says, pressing his lips against hers fervently.

 _Riley Minkus_ , Riley thinks to herself in the middle of making out with Farkle.

_A girl could get used to that._


	3. i'll be your violent overnight rush

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the little break! I've been on spring break and the week before that I had about a billion tests to prepare for, so that was a rough time. But I had this little part done and decided to finish it up so that I could post it for you all!
> 
> Oh, and if it wasn't clear enough yet, right now the format for all these chapter titles are lines taken from songs from Lorde's recent album Melodrama. This one is from the song "Supercut".
> 
> Also, this is a backtrack from the last couple of chapters, exploring the time when they first got together.
> 
> Enjoy!

So they’re not boyfriend and girlfriend. They’re just two friends who happen to live in the same apartment together, have made out once, are certainly attracted to each other, but never admitted to each other that they like one another. And maybe . . .

Maybe it’s supposed to stay like that.

Maybe it was a fluke that they kissed and Riley saw galaxies while Farkle’s hand rested on her waist, pulling her closer to him like there was nothing stopping them.

But part of her wishes—no, _hopes_ —that it wasn’t a fluke, because she likes Farkle. She really does. He’s incredibly smart and makes her laugh and feel safe—and who cares if she’s wondered to herself what it’d look like if they had kids!

The point is, she kind of really, _really_ likes Farkle, and he doesn’t seem to want to do anything about it.

It all _sucks_.

“Listen, the only thing I can make for you all is a margarita, so that’s what you’re all getting tonight,” Maya says, setting down several glasses in front of their table along with a margarita pitcher to share. She had only just begun bartending and was struggling very much so, but she did know how to make kickass margaritas, so Riley couldn’t complain.

“All I asked for was whiskey. _Whiskey_ ,” Zay complains. Maya gives him a pseudo-pout.

“Oh, I’m sowwy. Did wittle Zay not appweciate what his fwiend got him for fwee?” she says mockingly.

“Free, you say? Then I’m sold. Carry about your business,” he waves her on, grabbing the pitcher from the middle of the table as she leaves to pour himself a glass.

Riley was there with the guys for their Friday night drinks at Adam’s, a bar they had frequented for a very long time. She didn’t mind going out with them for drinks, especially since it was a Friday and she didn’t have to teach the next morning.

She did, however, mind that she was pressed against Farkle in the middle of the booth, Zay and Lucas their bookends keeping them in place. Riley was trying hard to ignore the electricity she felt every time he brushed up against her, was trying to ignore the way his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down that made her just want to run her tongue up the length of his neck.

A freaking arduous task, _yes_. She has it really bad, _fuck yes_.

On top of that, he just _had_ to wear those black jeans with the denim button-up that looked _amazing_ on him.

God, she should just bed him and get it over with! Maybe _that_ would clear the air between them. Or not. Who’s to say.

“Alright, scooch, Zay. I’ve gotta talk to Maya,” Riley nudges Zay. He groans, sliding out of the booth and gesturing for her to get out. She does so, muttering, _“Watch my purse!”_ before stalking off to find her best friend.

When she finds Maya, she’s struggling to mix a drink, and Riley can only watch as she fails miserably.

“Maya, are you sure you really want to bartend?” Riley asks, sitting at the barstool in front of Maya.

“ _Yes_ ,” Maya grits her teeth, obviously frustrated with the drink. “Why are there a billion various types of drinks? Can’t people just order a beer and get it over with?”

“Hey, can I talk to you about something?” Maya ceases wrestling with the drink to listen to Riley.

“Yeah, hon. Shoot.”

“So say there’s this . . . _guy_ ,” Riley begins, and Maya quickly cuts her off.

“It’s Farkle.”

“ _What?!_ Pfffft, nooooo,” Riley scoffs, and Maya raises a brow at her.

“Riley, I see the way you look at him. Also, no one starts off a normal conversation with, “So say there’s this . . . _guy_.” You already make it sound like an abnormal situation.”

_“Damnit,”_ Riley curses. “That’s not the point. The point is, I think I really like him and we’ve already kissed once—”

“Whoa whoa _whoa_. _Wait._ Did you just tell me the two of you have kissed? And you didn’t think to let your best friend know of this fact like, the _second_ it happened?!”

“Sorry! It was just a . . . _weird_ . . . situation. Like we’ve been scooting around each other awkwardly all week in the apartment kind of weird. And you’ve been busy trying to figure out how to be a bartender.” Maya sighs.

“Fair. But next time you better tell me what happens!” Riley smiles at her, resting her chin in her hand.

“So, are you going to give me advice?”

“Advice on what?”

_“Farkle!”_ Riley exclaims, frustrated with her best friend. Maya shrugs.

“I don’t know. Maybe just drink and see where the night goes. He’s been casting glances this way the whole time you’ve been here, anyway, so you’ll probably be doing stuff in the bathroom stall by the end of the night.”

_“Maya_. _”_

“Riley, _trust me_. He may not say it in his words, but he does say it in his actions. Besides, why are you rushing it? Why don’t you just let whatever happens happen and then just figure it out along the way? You’ve always been too desperate to push things forward in a relationship, so why not take it slow instead?” Riley groans inwardly to herself.

She’s right, _damnit_.

“Fine. But if this doesn’t go well I’m blaming you!” she shouts as she leaves the bar, heading back to the guys’ table. When she returns, she knocks her foot against the wood of the booth, indicating to Zay that he needs to get out.

“What did the two of you talk about?” Lucas asks as she slides back in next to Farkle, swallowing hard.

“Oh, Maya just wanted to talk to me about whether or not the bartending thing was a good idea,” Riley answers.

“No,” the guys all resound, and she shoots them a pointed look.

“She was asking _me_ , not you guys. And she’d like to try this out, so you guys better shut your traps _or else_ ,” Riley threatens them. Zay whistles.

“You know, you’re a little hot when you act vicious.”

“Oh yeah? Do _you guys_ think that?” she turns to Lucas and Farkle, grinning. Lucas nods his head while Farkle shifts uncomfortably in his seat.

“Not gonna lie, he’s right,” Lucas agrees. Riley looks at Farkle.

“And what do _you_ think, Farkle?” He’s making a point of _not_ returning her gaze, and Riley _loves_ it.

“You know, it’s like, it’s just a . . . you know. You know what it’s like,” he sputters, gesticulating wildly. Riley snorts and rolls her eyes, reaching across the table to pour herself a glass of margarita. As she takes a sip, she thanks Maya silently for making her margaritas so strong.

She’s gonna need it to get through this night.

 

//

 

After finishing their second pitcher of margaritas together, Zay demands they all go to the club nearby. Riley figures it’s probably because Vanessa texted him about it, but she can’t really complain too much. Her outfit is club appropriate (as Maya informed her after she ran up to her, frantic about the prospect of going to a club)—a red velvet top, black skater skirt, and black mule heels. Riley doesn’t intend on being there a very long time, though. Clubs aren’t her scene as far as she’s concerned, and she’s not going to sit around and pretend like they are.

She will admit, she does want to dance for a bit, though. And maybe if she can get a certain someone to dance with her, then perhaps it won’t be all for naught.

Unfortunately for her, as soon as the four of them are inside, the guys maneuver right out of her sight, and Riley feels like she wants to hit them upside their stupid heads. Instead, she distracts herself by going to the bar for a drink.

She orders a tequila sunrise, sipping on it as soon as its delivered to her and watching as people gyrate on the dancefloor. Riley’s none too keen on dirty dancing, the only kind she likes being the movie, but she likes the atmosphere. It makes her feel adult, like she’s finally getting to experience what people her age experiences every day.

Before she can order a second drink, she spots Farkle being a wallflower on the other side of the room, deciding that he’s: a.) being ridiculous, and b.) definitely going to dance with her. It’s probably the alcohol in her system making her brave, but she doesn’t give a damn. She strides up to him quickly, taking him by the hand before he has a chance to argue and leading him to the dance floor. Riley can feel him tense up the whole way over, but she chooses to ignore it for the sake of what she wants.

And for now, what she wants is to _dance._

“Dance with me, Farkle!” she yells over the music, swaying her hips to the beat.

“Okay?” he shouts back, giving his best attempt at dancing but failing miserably. Riley laughs, enjoying just being there with him, but Farkle must think she’s laughing at him because he stops right away, his expression panicked as he turns to disappear. Riley elects to follow him, knowing fully that if this were any other time she probably would’ve been too nervous to do so.

Thankfully, she’s able to follow him as he ducks into the hall and inside a nearby closet, startling him as she walks in, closing the door behind them. She makes sure to lock it for privacy, shifting towards him after.

“Farkle, are you alright?” she asks.

“Dancing is _not_ my thing,” he breathes. Riley offers him a sympathetic smile.

“That’s okay. I hope you know I wasn’t laughing at you. I was just happy to be with you,” she explains, hitching her breath after the last comment when she realizes what she’s said. Riley settles a second later when she notices it was the right thing to say, because Farkle’s grinning softly back at her, and suddenly it’s just the two of them and nothing else.

“Riley, we should probably talk about that other night,” he begins.

“Yeah, we probably should.”

She waits for him to say something, _anything_. She holds her breath as the silence washes over them, thinking to herself that _this is it_ , this is the moment where he takes back the kiss and calls it a mistake. But then he opens his mouth, and . . .

And he doesn’t.

“I don’t take back that kiss. I know it made things weird, but I just . . . I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it and you, and I just really like you a lot, Riley. More than I thought I could ever like a person,” he admits, inching closer to her. Riley’s legs begin pulling her towards him then, too, as if they were both magnets.

“Me too, Farkle. I like you a lot, too,” she whispers back, and those must be the magic words, because Farkle’s drawing her against his chest as he kisses her deeply, his fingers threading through her hair gently. Riley’s heart explodes within her, her brain a billion circuits fizzling all at once.

She’s embarrassingly excited by his touch, enough to reach out to push him up against the wall, but he reciprocates with equal excitement, hooking his hands underneath her knees and pulling her up. He shifts them around so that she’s the one pressed up against the wall, nipping at her jawline after. A small mewl escapes past Riley’s lips, and Farkle swallows hard in response.

Riley resolves to put this experience in her “top ten sexiest moments” memory bank.

They’re a mess of unresolved sexual tension in that closet. Riley’s been pretty vanilla her whole life, but her body is on fire and she’s been waiting for this moment for a long while, so she doesn’t really much care how far they go. All she wants is Farkle, Farkle, _Farkle_ , and the inevitable meeting of his skin against hers.

Unfortunately for the two of them, their intimate exchange is cut short by a knocking on the door, followed by Farkle accidentally dropping her legs and knocking his forehead into hers.

_“Shit, sorry,”_ he mutters as the two of them jump apart, trying desperately to fix themselves up in a way that doesn’t appear incriminating (but totally will anyway.) Riley glances up at him wide-eyed and Farkle offers her a similar expression before unlocking the door and opening it.

“Alright, c’mon you two. Outta the closet,” the man, obviously a janitor of sorts, points behind him. Although Farkle and Riley are unbelievably embarrassed, the man couldn’t care less, as if this sort of thing had happened a bunch of times before (and probably has.) The two of them skitter out, not stopping until they’re tucked away in a corner close to the door, about as private as they’ll get in a club.

“Sorry,” Farkle says sheepishly, his face red as a beet. Riley smiles at him softly, tilting her head.

“Sorry for what? It was embarrassing, sure, but I don’t regret it.” Farkle beams at her after that, causing Riley’s heart to skip a beat as he reaches out with his hand, intertwining his fingers with hers.

“Wanna go back to the apartment? I think we’ve been out enough for the night,” he tells her. Riley nods, squeezing his hand.

“I’d love to.”


	4. it’s a switch flipped, it’s a pill tipped back, it’s a moon eclipse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been writing this chapter for a while and only just finished it, so I figured I'd post it.
> 
> Enjoy!

It’s been a long enough time after what happened between her and her ex Brandon where she’s finally starting to accept that: a.) he’s not going to take her back, b.) she doesn’t want him to take her back, and c.) she’s a permanent fixture in the loft.

The pushback against her was clear at first, but then they came to know each other, came to accept each other for their slight differences and annoyances, and they started to become friends. Now, Lucas, Zay, and even Farkle would do anything for her if she asked and likewise, and Riley feels warm every time she thinks about how she gets to live with these amazing people that genuinely like her back.

It's _amazing_. Even better than living with her ex, for _sure_.

But then there’s still this small hesitancy from Farkle’s end that takes Riley _forever_ to combat. She doesn’t get it, really—they really had been getting along the most out of all her roommates, but all of a sudden Farkle reverted back to how he was when she first moved in, just like the flip of a switch.

She has no idea why he’s so insistent upon keeping her out and why she’s so insistent upon pulling him in.

Maybe it’s because _he_ doesn’t see her as permanent in his life. Perhaps he feels like he’s just biding his time living in the loft, because she knows he’s still in love with his ex, Sarah, and he’d do anything at this point to get back together with her.

Whatever the reason, Farkle still manages to avoid her like the plague when he can, maintaining an almost palpable amount of distance between them, something that endures for quite a while until Riley can no longer stand it.

So she begins to press Farkle’s buttons by invading his space in any way she can—brushing up against him in the hallway when they go in or out of their rooms, a soft touch of the arm when they have a brief conversation . . . things like that. She can tell she’s testing his patience, but frankly she doesn’t give a damn. He no longer has the option to ignore her, and if he has a problem with it, then he’ll talk to her.

Easy as pie.

Except Farkle has to be the _nicest_ person on the planet, because even though he’s obviously bothered by her intruding upon his personal bubble, he is so non-confrontational that he doesn’t do anything about it. It frustrates Riley to no end.

“Alright, I give,” Riley announces in a huff, collapsing into the chair at the kitchen table in front of Zay and Lucas. “Why is Farkle avoiding me?”

“Maybe because you can be slightly irritating,” Zay tells her, sipping at his tea nonchalantly. Riley shoots him a look of disdain.

“ _Impossible._ C’mon guys, really. I’m really upset over this.” Lucas shrugs.

“I don’t know what to tell you, Riley. I mean, Farkle’s always been really shy with girls in general, and living with one certainly doesn’t make things easy. Have you tried asking him why he’s avoiding you?” Riley blinks a moment, her face blank.

“. . . No, I haven’t. That’s . . . that’s actually good advice.”

“Go figure,” Zay quips. Riley reaches into the fruit basket on the table and throws an orange at him. “Ow! She hit me!” he cries to Lucas, who’s only grinning.

“You kind of asked for it, man.”

“Well, thank you for your help, _Lucas_ ,” Riley emphasizes as she rises from her chair. “I’ll go talk to him.” Zay sticks his tongue out at her as she leaves the table, and Riley makes a point to ignore it.

She’s got bigger fish to fry.

 

//

 

Unfortunately, and this is absolutely the truth and not her trying to avoid conflict, but Riley becomes way too busy with life and doesn’t get her time to talk with Farkle. She’s busy with preparing for the upcoming EOG for her class, the end of the year test that they take before saying goodbye for the summer. Riley has to admit, she spends a little extra time working on her class because she always hates to see them move a grade up and out of her class.

What can she say? She loves her kids.

As soon as that wave passes, however, Riley’s schedule frees up, and she tries to plan the perfect time to talk to Farkle. She’s noticed that he’s eased up quite a bit, and that’s probably due to her not trying to viciously invade his personal space like she had been doing before. But now she’s off the clock for the summer, so it’s his time to suffer again.

He can’t get away with ignoring her that easy.

But then life gets in the way _again_ , and Riley becomes increasingly frustrated.

The boys announce that they have a wedding to attend on Sunday, the first day of summer, and that’s _exactly_ when Riley was planning on confronting Farkle. They end up inviting her to tag along, however, and she thinks to herself that maybe it’s not all for naught. It’ll make it even easier for her to approach him, too, because Zay and Lucas announce that they know Farkle’s ex is going to be there and that she needs to help them be on “Farkle Watch” so that he doesn’t do anything idiotic like try to get her back or something.

Well, they can _definitely_ count on Riley Matthews to be on Farkle Watch duty as his wing-woman for sure.

She always thought she’d be a good wingman, and now’s her chance to prove that.

“No, you are _not_ bringing a deck of cards with you. Why are you like this?” Zay asks as he takes the card pack from her hands, tossing it onto the floor. Lucas looks at her disapprovingly, as well.

“Because I like to be fun, and card tricks are _fun!_ ” Riley exclaims in a huff. “Alright, fun police, what’s next on your fun police agenda?”

“We’ve gotta approve your dress,” Lucas tells her, and Riley gapes.

“What, now you’re the _fashion police_ , too?” Zay and Lucas exchange glances before nodding profusely.

“Yeah, we kinda have to be. Your dresses are cute, but they’re only cute around third graders. We’re going to an _adult_ wedding where we’ll be around _adults_ , so you better show us an _adult_ dress,” Zay instructs. Riley sticks her tongue at him before disappearing into her closet to rifle through her menagerie of dresses and find ones that Zay and Lucas might deem “appropriate”. She manages to find three dresses she thinks are perfect, but Zay only groans, pushing her out of the way after taking one look at them to search her closet himself.

Zay returns not too long after with a dress in hand, and Riley backs away, shaking her head. It’s one that she had stuffed in the back of her closet for a _reason_. The dress is hardly modest, the length of it reaching barely the middle of her thighs, the neckline plunging too far for her liking. It’s what she calls her “little black cocktail dress”, or rather what Maya called it when she gifted it to her when she realized that Riley didn’t have a single sexy dress in her closet.

“Ohhhhh no no no _no_ ,” she insists, waving her arms around sporadically. “Maya gave me that one for my twenty-fifth birthday and really it’s not me and—”

“Go put this one on _now_ ,” Zay demands and Riley swipes the dress away from him angrily, returning to her closet to change. She steps out after struggling with the dress for several minutes, her arms crossed and lips pouted.

“This up to your standards?” she asks. A look of relief washes over Lucas and Zay’s faces.

“Freaking finally!” Zay shouts. Lucas seems to approve, as well, and Riley storms off with her makeup bag towards the bathroom afterward, tired of being around those two buffoons. On her way out the door, she bumps into Farkle, the makeup bag dropping from her hands.

“Whoops, I’ll get that,” he tells her, crouching down to retrieve the bag off the floor, relinquishing it to her once he’s back up. His eyes shoot open in surprise at her, and she tilts her head as she accepts the bag.

“What?”

“That dress . . . it looks really good on you,” he says, clearing his throat immediately after.

“Oh!” Riley exclaims, a prickle of heat biting at her cheeks. “Thank you.” Farkle offers her an unsure smile and a nod and then turns away without a word, heading towards Zay and Lucas. Riley sighs, knowing fully that she’s got no idea how to approach Farkle on the subject of how he feels about her. That always was her fatal flaw, especially during grade school.

Riley cares too much what people think about her to the point where it can destroy her from the inside.

Luckily, she’s got faith that things can smooth out. So where her shortcomings lie, she makes up in an unyielding dedication to any task she sets for herself, no matter how difficult or unlikely it can come to fruition.

She stalks off to the bathroom, a lot on her mind as the three boys yell loudly from the other room, something that’s become almost the norm for her now.

 

//

 

They arrive at the wedding late because Zay _insists_ they pick up a last-minute gift from IKEA for the bride and groom, taking only about an hour to pick out a stupid nightstand that they will probably a.) not be able to figure out how to put it together, and b.) not even use at all in their lifetime. Riley taps her foot rapidly in the car as finally parks outside their destination, silently wishing she had driven her own car to the damn wedding instead of agreeing to carpool.

Luckily enough, by the time they make their way up to where the ceremony is being held in the building, they find out they’ve got five minutes to spare, quickly making their way to a row of empty seats in the back, hoping no one notices them slip in late. The music starts up and the wedding party begins their procession down the aisle, and Riley counts the minutes until she can get to the reception.

Riley should feel bad about that, but she doesn’t. She doesn’t even know these people, so why should she even care? She’s just on Farkle Watch today to make sure he doesn’t do anything idiotic, so even though she likes weddings, she’ll be glad when this one’s over.

After a painstakingly long amount of time, the ceremony finally draws to a close and the bride and groom announce that the reception is in another room in the building, and Riley lets out a sigh of relief. But unfortunately for her, the relief doesn’t last long because suddenly a familiar, long-haired brunette rounds the corner, and her, Lucas, and Zay all go still around Farkle.

It’s her. The _ex_.

Sarah Carpenter.

And suddenly it becomes a waiting game as she closes in, everyone silently trying to figure what the hell kind of move to make. Riley watches Farkle carefully, trying to decipher his emotions as she approaches, but he’s a statue, unmoving.

“Well, well, well, Farkle Minkus. Long time no see,” Sarah greets him, adjusting her glasses on the bridge of her nose.

“Oh hey, Sarah. Good to see you, I guess,” he mutters, scratching the back of his head. It’s so cringe-worthy, Riley can’t stand to watch anymore. She grabs Farkle’s arm, tugging him towards the reception hall.

“Come on, we’ve gotta go to the reception hall, remember? It’s good to see you, Sarah,” Riley waves, gritting her teeth as she guides the boys away from the horrific situation.

“What did you do that for? I was handling it!” Farkle exclaims as she drags him along.

“I don’t think you need to interact with her. Nothing ever good comes out of interacting with your ex,” Riley explains.

“You looked like you had met death at your doorstep,” Zay comments. “It did not look pretty.”

“Sarah did always have that effect on him,” Lucas adds, much to Farkle’s chagrin. “C’mon, man, we’ve gotta get to the reception.” Farkle sighs, giving in as the rest of the group guides him down the hall.

They find their table huddled in the corner away from everyone, and Zay complains the whole time because he’s nowhere _close_ to any of the bridesmaids. Lucas is just bothered by the fact that he hadn’t eaten much in the morning and the pictures were taking _way too freaking long_ , and Riley couldn’t help but notice Farkle’s gaze glued to the other side of the room, right where Sarah Carpenter is sitting, laughing away with a man by her side. She reaches out to him underneath the table where his hands are curled into fists, gently taking one and lacing her fingers with his.

“She doesn’t know what she’s missing out on,” Riley offers him a small, sympathetic smile. Farkle’s breath hitches and he nods.

“Yeah, for sure,” he says quietly, only loud enough for Riley to hear him.

“Farkle, do you want me to set you up with a bridesmaid, too? It might be good for you,” Zay announces across the table. Riley thinks to herself that he’s lucky he’s not in front of her or she’d kick him in the shin with the stiletto heels she has on.

“Uh, no thanks,” Farkle shakes his head. “I appreciate it, though.” Zay shrugs.

“No problem, dude.”

They all make idle chatter from then on to ignore the fact that they’re growing increasingly hungry. About thirty minutes later, the wedding party bursts into the reception, breaking apart to showcase the happy couple as they have their first dance. As she watches them, Riley makes a note in the back of her head to never, _ever_ play “Low Rider” at her wedding because it is just _atrocious_. The guys seem to echo the sentiment, their expressions ranging from to disgust to horror at the display in front of them.

When they finally finish, the couple announces that everyone can go grab food and the four of them race for the buffet line, practically pushing over elderly people and children in the process to get towards the front of the line. They fill up their plates and then head back to the table, each one of them not saying a word as they devour the meal in front of them, happy to be eating at last.

A sudden _clink_ drags their attention away from their plates as the groom holds up his champagne glass, clearing his throat. The chatter in the room dies down, all eyes falling on the happy couple. Riley sighs in her seat, leaning her head back as she prepares to listen through the droning of speeches from the wedding party of people she doesn’t even know.

Why, exactly, did she come again if she doesn’t know these people?

. . . Oh yeah. She’s supposed to be Farkle’s wingman.

For Farkle’s sake, and as her word to Zay and Lucas, she tries to appear happy and stays in the room, but she’s itching to take a plate of food and sneak out the back. Good thing she’s fairly patient. She does have to work with children all day, after all.

After half an hour of speeches, the bride and groom finally raise their glasses, toasting to one another for a long and happy life together. Riley hits her champagne flute against the rest of her table’s, draining the glass once it touches her lips.

It’s just that kind of night.

Then they watch as the father-daughter dance happens, and Riley has to admit, it’s very sweet. It’s one of those things that she’s anticipated about getting married one day because she’s so close with her father, so she doesn’t mind sitting through it. Even the song is sweet—it’s “Wildflowers” by Tom Petty. She taps her foot to the beat, humming under her breath.

Once it’s over, the dancefloor is opened to everyone. Zay hops up from the table almost immediately, making a beeline for the bridesmaids table while Riley, Lucas, and Farkle all remain.

“You’re not going to join Doofus McGee over there?” Riley asks, pointing at Zay. Lucas shakes his head.

“I’m good. I’m not really looking for anything right now.” Riley shoots him a suspicious look, making a note to look into that later. When she turns to look back at Farkle, however, he’s gone, and she begins frantically searching the room for where he might be.

“Uh oh. Where’d Farkle go?” Riley grits her teeth. Lucas scoffs.

“We give you one job and you already blew it?” She sneers at him, crossing her arms.

“You told me to _help_. You did _not_ say this was my job alone. You, mister, are just as accountable. Now help me look for him!”

Riley stomps over to the other side of the table, tugging Lucas up by the ear. She drags him over to the dance floor while he complains, instructing him to search the right side of the floor for Farkle while she checks the left. She has to elbow her way through people way too close for comfort as she scans the crowd for the genius she’s supposed to be, essentially, babysitting.

It shouldn’t be all that difficult all things considered. Farkle is tall, towering over her by several inches, so he should be noticeable in this sea of people.

Apparently not.

She really wishes he was wearing his bright orange turtleneck today of all days.

Riley discovers him _finally_ , but much to her dismay, he’s talking to _Sarah Carpenter_ , and she looks like she’s flirting with him hardcore. She pushes her way up next to him so that she can do her job as a wingman and get him out of there as quick as possible.

“Farkle, there you are!” Riley exclaims as soon as she’s beside him. He looks at her surprised, while all Sarah does is sort of sneer.

“Riley? What did you want? I’m talking to Sarah,” he nods toward her, as if to say, _“Get out of here.”_ She links arms with him, gently pulling him towards the dancefloor to get him away.

“You promised me a dance, remember?” she tells him. He furrows his brow, confused.

“No?”

“Farkle, what is going on?” Sarah interrupts them.

“Nothing, Sarah, it’s—”

“Hey, Babe.”

Before Farkle can finish, he’s cut off by a big, burly man leaning in to kiss Sarah. Riley can tell he’s confused and hurt by it, and she can understand why.

It’s like Sarah’s keeping him as a backup. He’s on her hook just in case she needs companionship, and Sarah had no intention of cutting him loose. So Riley does the only thing she can think of.

She cups both sides of Farkle’s face with her hands and pulls him in, pressing her lips against his and kissing him passionately.

. . . It goes on for a good thirty seconds, too, until they both decide they need air. If Farkle was confused before, he’s absolutely _bewildered_ now.

“Uhh, I guess we should leave you two alone?” Sarah asks, obviously annoyed. Riley decides for the both of them, nudging Farkle out to the dancefloor and waving goodbye to his ex.

“We’re gonna go dance now. Goodbye, Sarah.”

The two of them say nothing until they’re stopped in an empty spot of the dancefloor, and Riley guides Farkle into a dancing position with his hands on her waist and her arms wrung around his neck. His eyes aren’t looking to focus on her any time soon, but she clears her throat, demanding his attention.

“Uhhhhh,” is all he can say, the internal conflict clear in his eyes. Riley breathes.

“You needed to let her go,” she explains as they sway back and forth with each other. “She was just keeping you as a backup plan in case the rest of her flings didn’t end well. You deserve more than that, Farkle.” Farkle swallows, nodding his head.

“I know. I just . . . yeah. Thank you for helping me out, even if it took you, well . . . you know.” Riley offers him a small smile.

“Of course. You’re my friend, you know that? I want you to know I’m here for you, even if you don’t want it.” He tilts his head, frowning.

“What do you mean ‘even if I don’t want it’?”

“You’ve been avoiding me lately. I thought it was maybe something I did or something, but I . . . I don’t know. I guess it’s because you just don’t like me.” Farkle laughs, actually _laughs_ at that, and it’s Riley’s turn to be confused.

“Riley, that’s not it _at all_. I like you, a lot, in fact. I’ve just been . . . I don’t know. You intimidate me, and I feel like half of the time I don’t deserve to have someone like you in my life,” he admits. Riley feels her cheeks begin to burn, her throat running dry.

“I intimidate you? But I’m just a stupid, crazy, annoying girl who you guys don’t take seriously half of the time. I’m not intimidating.” Farkle shakes his head.

“You’re not annoying. You’re fun, kind, smart and . . . and really beautiful, and it’s hard for someone who’s just lived with guys to get used to that. I’m sorry you felt like you weren’t wanted.”

Riley has no words for that. Instead, she just pulls him close, hugging him tightly, her face buried into his shoulder. He leans his nose into her hair and hugs her back just as tight, and they stay there on the dancefloor for the rest of the night, talking and enjoying each other’s company.

And Riley . . . Something’s changed. She doesn’t quite understand what it might be exactly, but after tonight, she’s certain that their dynamic has shifted.

She’ll figure it out. Eventually.


End file.
